Hard Day's Night
by Pecandy
Summary: Sherlock had a hard day at work. She wants Jane to fix it. genderswap lesbian johnlock pwp wheee


Jane came home exhausted on a Wednesday evening. She had spent the day at the free children's clinic giving flu shots to poor families. She hadn't been planning to work at all with them that week, but the receptionist had called her the night before and all but begged her to come in- the bloke who was supposed to come in quit with two day's notice, and they were completely panicked in finding a replacement. Jane couldn't say no.

She exhaled as she walked into the living room, slumping against the wall and closing her eyes for a moment, feeling the day's tension dissipating. She loved kids, but working at the clinic all day always left her drained. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Sherlock curled up into a funny little ball on the couch. She was facing the wall, wearing nothing but boyshorts and a baggy cami that sagged on her thin frame. A plastic lighter and empty pack of cigarettes lay crumpled on the floor next to her, and her handgun was on the other side of the coffee table, unfired, but visibly loaded. It probably wouldn't be long until she started target practice on some old books. Or Jane's mugs. Or the wall.

"Rough day?" Jane asked, keeping her voice soft and soothing.

Sherlock rolled around heavily to face her. As always, she was a quite a sight. Her thick, wavy, black hair was sticking up in all directions and falling over her face; her bright blue eyes were smudged with dark, slept-in eyeliner, contrasting her pale skin and lips. Probably, she had just rolled onto the couch the minute she got home. "Where were you? I've been waiting for hours."

Jane didn't respond. Sherlock had known exactly where she'd been and when she was coming home; she'd told her as she left that morning. Was she up to something, or just cranky? "What's wrong, love?"

Sherlock groaned. "Jane, come with me to the Yard tomorrow. We're working a murder and I can't stand Anderson's idiocy a second more. And Lestrade's hardly making matters better with how he 'needs' 'strict physical evidence'." She emphasized with finger quotes and a grimace. "As if it isn't completely obvious that the victim belonged to a street gang."

Jane sighed. "You know I can't, Sherlock, not until next week. I have appointments to keep. Kids aren't just going to give themselves flu shots."

At this, Sherlock pouted and turned her head into the pillow. "I knew you'd say that. I don't understand why you feel the need to go to that clinic. They didn't give you even a day's warning." Jane walked over to her and sat on the edge of the couch. She could see Sherlock peering at her from the corners of her eyes, looking away when Jane met her stare. Well, she was definitely up to something.

"Talk to me. What did Anderson do today? How do you know the victim was in a gang?" She gently held Sherlock's palm and massaged it with her thumbs. Sherlock needed this sometimes, to unwind after a stressful day. Today, however, she remained silent. "Or I could put on some te-"

Sherlock shot up suddenly pinned Jane by the wrists against the backboard of the couch. "Jane."

"Sherlock."

"I don't want tea."

"Okay."

Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh. "I know you're not a mind-reader Jane, but I don't think I could make it any more obvious if I tried. Fuck me."

Jane laughed. "We're not playing this game, Sherlock. You want something, you tell me."

"Did I not just?" With that, Sherlock smashed her lips against Jane's. Jane tried, and failed, to suppress a giggle- of course the eyeliner and underwear hadn't been left on out of laziness; it was all part of an elaborate ploy. Always scheming, Sherlock. Why she didn't just ask Jane for a kiss as she walked in the door was beyond her. But whatever, Jane decided it didn't matter. If this is what Sherlock wanted, she'd be more than happy to give it to her. Jane kissed back, sucking and pressing at Sherlock's tongue. Sherlock didn't tease like she usually did- there was no tracing of Jane's lips, feather-light touches to her hard palate. No; today, she was forceful, fast, sloppy. Jane pushed against Sherlock's hold, trying to take control, but Sherlock didn't seem to notice. Finally, when Sherlock broke the kiss for air, Jane broke the hold and pinned Sherlock against the cushions.

Jane kissed down Sherlock's neck, biting and pausing to suck at the spot just under the side of her chin that always made her quiver. She could feel Sherlock's heartbeat increasing under her lips, could hear her breaths become quick and labored. When she began to caress Sherlock's breasts from her shirt, Sherlock moaned and tore the shirt off herself. Jane smirked. "Well hello. Not even a bra?"

"Of course not," Sherlock said with a sneer. "I was hoping it would help you get the message, though hardly anything seems to make much of a difference with you."

"Oh shut it, you. Do you even want this, or would you rather have a domestic?" Sherlock grunted. _Good enough._ Jane bent over her chest, biting her nipple with enough force to make Sherlock gasp and cry out. She was being rougher than usual, but it seemed to be what Sherlock wanted now. With her hands, she pinched Sherlocks other nipple and rubbed her mons up and down, slowly circling lower.

It didn't take long before Sherlock was begging, commanding Jane to move on. "Come on, don't tease, I've wanted this all day, been thinking about it since this morning, please Jane…"

Jane flushed. "This morning?" She asked between bites. "Well, you could've just asked then, couldn't you? Instead of trying to have me figure it out on my own. Just think, you could've come twice by now." Sherlock cried out desperately and clutched at Jane's hair. She was a quivering, letting out a few soft-spoken orders between desperate pleas. Jane felt cruel to deny her any longer.

She wound her fingers through the hem of Sherlock's panties and pulled them down slowly. For someone who turned down countless of Jane's spa days on the pretense of not caring about "excessive grooming", Sherlock was flawlessly shaven but for a shock of dark hair in the base of her mons. Jane loved that she shaved- it made it all the easier to see, tease, lick her. Jane pulled down her head to Sherlock's sex, reveling in her heady scent. Gently, she kissed down Sherlock's vulva, then back up. Sherlock pushed her away and rubbed herself with her own hand. "No, no, not that, not this time," she said as she turned over and opened a drawer in the coffee table. After rummaging around clumsily, she pulled a bottle of lube. "Use this," she said.

Jane raised her eyebrow.

"Just do it, I need you in me, fast and hard oh Jane please…"

"Well, since you asked so nicely…" Jane took the bottle and undid the cap. The gel poured into her hand and she tested the slickness between her thumb and pointer finger. Then, slowly, she drizzled it over Sherlock. She gasped sharply at the sudden coolness on her cunt, reaching a hand down to warm it herself before Jane swatted her away. Quickly, Jane spread the mixture over her, concentrating on her entrance. The lube combined with Sherlock's own wetness, creating a mind-numbing smell of sticky, sweet, salty sex. Jane rubbed herself lightly as she pressed two fingers inside of Sherlock, slowly pumping in and out.

"More, more…" she cried out. Jane complied, adding a finger and speeding up. "Oh! Fuck, Jane, just like that, fuck me, oh god you're so wonderful, please don't stop…" _Christ_ was she vocal. Jane's eyelids fluttered just from listening to her.

Jane absolutely did not stop. Sherlock was so fucking _sexy_ when she was horny, with her face flushed a soft pink and her chest covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and when she was really turned on- like she was now- she would buck her hips in a carnal rhythm, random and almost violent. Just the sight alone had Jane on edge. "Wouldn't stop for the world, love," she purred.

Sherlock made an appreciative moan. Her hand came up from clutching the back of the couch and began to rub her clit, but Jane again grabbed her hand away. "None of that," she said. Sherlock started to whine, but her complaint turned to a moan when Jane placed her own palm over her. "I'll make you come. I'll take care of you." She rubbed her with the flat of her palm, slowly increasing pressure and speed as Sherlock's moans rose in pitch. Then, realizing she was doing nothing with her mouth, she leaned over Sherlock and sucked at the inside of her thigh. Sherlock screamed and grabbed her hair. Her legs wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer with an iron grip.

She was almost there, Jane could tell. Jane pressed a more firmly over her clit, rubbing her palm in little circles as she worked her fingers in and out of Sherlock relentlessly. Sherlock was spasming under her, calling out Jane's name between incoherent profanities. Then, she gave a full-body shudder, tensing around Jane's fingers and shouting as she came. Jane fucked her through it, not daring to stop until she felt Sherlock relax completely around her.

Slowly, Jane removed her fingers from Sherlock. She was absolutely dripping, soaking into the couch. Well, that would be fun to clean up. Jane made a mental note to keep towels around the house for the next time Sherlock pounced her.

Sherlock turned towards Jane, a satisfied expression playing at her face. As always, she was stunning in her afterglow- all smiles and softness and curves where there were usually so many hard edges. Sherlock's smile widened and she met her eyes. "Jane," she said, "thank you. You've no idea how badly I needed that. Orgasm is a fantastic destressant, isn't it?"

Jane smiled back at her. "Anything for you."

Sherlock snatched her hand and kissed the back of it. With a mischievous grin, she turned the palm to face her and licked a long stripe from heel to fingertip. When she reached the end, she took three cum-soaked fingers into her mouth and sucked, nibbled. Oh god. Her fingers seemed to send shocks straight to her clit. Jane felt herself swell as Sherlock stared at her, mouth full, with burning eyes. When Sherlock pulled the fingers out wetly, Jane couldn't help but gasp.

"I was terribly selfish just now, wasn't I?" Sherlock asked, her wolfish grin growing. "Let me make it up to you." Jane felt the fire between her legs intensify tenfold as she was pushed onto the floor and Sherlock all but ripped her pants off her.

Jane gasped when she felt cool fingers raking little trails down her sides. "Oh, yes, Sherlock…"

Sherlock lowered her face to Jane's sex and stared for a long moment. "So wet," she said, her icy blue eyes scorching. She trailed her fingertips over Jane's mound, tracing patterns and symbols but never moving lower. Finally, just as Jane was teetering on the edge of begging Sherlock to do something, she licked her from perineum to clit in one long, deliciously slow movement. Jane moaned happily at the back of her throat and Sherlock repeated the movement twice more.

Jane melted under her- slow, delicious moans spilling from her mouth and chest. Sherlock began licking her up and down, side to side, teasing at her lips and labia but avoiding her clit. She was sensitizing her, making her _need_ it, and oh, she did. Finally, she began to lick her with just enough pressure to make her writhe and gasp. Jane relished the feeling; Sherlock was fantastic at everything she cared to do, and this was no exception. Their first few times had been slow, clumsy. Sherlock asked what seemed like an excessive amount of questions, so many that Jane had started to think that she was lacking confidence. But of course, Sherlock then proceeded give her the most mind-blowing head she could have imagined.

So this time, when she licked at her, she knew exactly what she had to do to make Jane writhe and claw the rug under her. Just the right amount of pressure, focusing on the left side of her vulva, giving her clit a firm rub with the flat of her tongue every other stroke. Jane's head flooded with pleasure as she felt approaching climax. "Oh fuck, Sherlock, almost-"

Sherlock pressed a firm knuckle into her perineum and sucked her clit into her mouth, working the area around it and fondling her lips with fingertips. Jane's moans increased in pitch until finally she jerked and arched off the mattress, eyes squeezed tight as she came impossibly hard. The world around her contracted to Sherlock's tongue and fingers, wringing out her orgasm for longer than she'd thought was possible. "Sherlock! Oh, fuuck! I can't—stop-" Sherlock stayed where she was until finally Jane felt herself coming down. Then, gingerly, she came up and kissed the tip of Jane's nose.

Jane couldn't think. "How did- the-" Sherlock put a finger to her lips.

"Pressure points." Jane gaped at her, wide-eyed. "I've been researching. I'll show you later, there's more. It _was_ good, right?"

"Good? Yes, good. Very good. Wow." Jane felt like she was made of bricks. She was fairly sure that she couldn't move if a hurricane swept through the living room that very moment.

Sherlock got up gently and went to fix herself a cuppa. She was so graceful as she sauntered around, even fully naked and dripping between her legs. When she came back, Jane had recovered, finally able to think coherently. Sherlock set the half-full mug on the table in front of Jane, and held her hand out. "Ready for another round? Shower, my thighs are filthy."

"I could always lick you clean," she offered.

Sherlock grinned. "I'll have to take you up on that. In the shower." She turned and ambled over to the bathroom. Jane took a sip of Sherlock's coffee and grimaced- how was it possible to drink something so horribly strong and bitter?- then got up and headed to the bathroom.

a/n: not much plot here to speak of. basically i just wanted to write some more lezzie stuff. i did and i will again lezzie stuff rox


End file.
